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An influential newspaper.
In one place—one city.
That was where his future lay.
Of course it was.
On their fifteenth day together, Luca dumped the boxes of food onto the damp grass, almost collapsing onto the ground after them.
His panting contrasted with the surrounds. Afternoon light filtered through the familiar river-front—green and babbling and made suddenly bigger by the absence of Artair’s campsite.
“You just had to get cans, didn’t you?” said Luca, stretching his back. “And such gourmet cans at that.”
“Hey, we can’t all be as refined as you. I still can’t believe you didn’t get any cheese with your rations.”
“Sorry to burst your Taco Bell bubble, but real Mexican food doesn’t have a pound of grated cheddar on it. Or a gallon of sour cream.”
“But that’s the best part!”
“Please, like you can judge my food,” said Luca, with a smirk. “Just look at this stuff. Tinned spaghetti. A long-life cheeseburger. Cans of really crap stew.”
“Whoa! Don’t you be coming for stew. The last thing the world needs right now is a war between Ireland and Mexico.”
“Yeah, who’d even win that fight?”
“Depends. How much whiskey does Mexico drink?”
“Not much?”
“Then you’d probably have an advantage.”
Luca snorted and helped with the setup. Bowie, who’d been following them closely through the undergrowth, leaped into action at the sight of his old home, tugging at the bag’s buckles.
The sunlit glow, blazing after so many days of rain, caught Artair’s handsome face as he worked, distracted by unrolling the thick canvas tent that he’d stashed in the derelict cabin. It was still soaked and would need to be pegged out before being used.
Not that it would need long. The weather had transitioned effortlessly from wet and chilled into the full heat of summer, like nature was trying to catch up on lost time.
As Luca helped revive the camp, a strange mood overtook him. A mood of reminiscence and boldness. Of foolishness and daydreams.
“You can still stay in the tower, you know?” he said, surprised at how the words caught in his throat. Surprised that he’d said them at all. “If you wanted to, that is? If all the camping is too much?”
Artair chuckled. “You don’t think it was a bit cramped up there?”
Luca immediately felt stupid.
Of course that would be Artair’s answer.
He’d known that.
So why the hell did I bring it up in the first place?
Luca tried to push the awkwardness away. “Only when Bowie tried to get under the covers.”
“Yeah, I have no idea where he learned that. I definitely didn’t leave bits of food in the bed last year to convince him to snuggle.”
“I knew it! I knew there was no way a fox would start randomly acting like a dog.”
Just as Luca was feeling thankful that Artair had changed subject, the man tackled him onto the grass, letting out a terrible impression of an attacking bear. Luca laughed and tried to fight him off, wrestling badly against Artair’s much better leverage.
